Seattle

I’m in Seattle and I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. I know I’m always happy to be here but I feel happier than ever. Maybe it’s because I have three nights in a hotel? It’s not because I don’t have to work. I spent an hour, 5:30am-6:30am (Seattle time!) working. I like the waking up early. I don’t mind the working though much too much of it was responding to my supervisor’s worrying. She worries things to death, asks questions that have already been answered and generally wastes my time.

Yet, I am still happy. I scored a room with an amazing view. It’s possibly not the best view ever, but it faces northwest, which means I can see a good swath of Elliot Bay, with the Olympics, and the Space Needle too, both framed by tall buildings. Last night, I had dinner with Nancy, who is also here for work. It’s great for us since we get to hang even more than usual. When we got back, it was sunset, and I just sat in my huge picture window on the 30^th floor and watched a sunset backed by some of the prettiest scenery in the world. I never do that—just sit and watch a sunset. So, stupid boss, bring on your petty annoyances, I can take it. I’m in Seattle.

Grateful for: the sun in the morning and the moon at night.

Hello friends! Your recalcitrant blogger returns. What is going on with me? Work is good. Really. No, my new boss isn’t any better than she ever was. Is she worse? No. Maybe we’re just getting used to her non-decision making, annoying as hell, dithering ways. Mostly, I limit my contact with her and that works because she is starting to respect my distance. Perhaps she understands that if I were to leave, as one of colleagues recently did, she would be screwed. Really screwed. The whole office would suffer since folks wouldn’t be able to absorb my workload. Yes, I am indispensible…at least in the short term.

Other than that, I think I need to move around more. I really, really enjoy sitting at home, knitting and watching tv/reading on the internet. This is basically my favorite thing right now. I don’t go to the movies, I don’t go drinking and I barely talk to anyone. (Ok, that last one isn’t true.) The movies—once one of my pure pleasures, isn’t working for me right now. The shows aren’t appealing and the timing is always wrong. So, I might walk around (yesterday) and think about going to a movie, then go home a watch a movie on Netflix instead. Whew, this is sad indeed.

I sometimes wonder about all this knitting. If I stay home and knit all the time, when will I actually wear the things I make? Actually, I wore a pair of socks I made yesterday. I’m getting better, because they were pretty darn comfortable. Also, half the stuff I’m obsessively knitting these days is for Pele’s future baby. It’s terrible bad luck, and I won’t give her the stuff until the baby is born, but I cannot seem to resist knitting for a baby who I will actually (probably) get to spend a fair amount of time with—I will see my baby knits in action! Baby tally so far: booties, vest, bonnet, and mitts. I also plan a blanket (a small one) and perhaps another pair of booties. And maybe a hat. What’s amazing is that I haven’t spent a cent on any of the yarn because it’s all coming from my stash. I am always prepared to make baby things!

So, a little update, to make me feel better about the blog. I think about it several times a week and wish I were more consistent. Not at all sure I have a solution for that, though.

Grateful for:an engaging hobby.

By the sea

This weekend--Saturday to Sunday--Pele and I took a short camping trip to the beach. It's been at least two years (longer?) since we last went camping. We took no pictures of each other (too bad, actually), but maybe she didn't want them given her pregnant state? At any rate, I was a very last minute packer and didn't bring my camera, only the iphone.

But I did take a few pictures--of a turtle.



On the drive to the campground, we passed several signs warning us to watch out for turtles. I told Pele I really wanted to see one of these turtles. How big were they? Were they large enough to be seen in time to stop while cruising along at 45mph?



Short answer: no. This isn't the tiniest turtle in the world but I doubt I would have seen her in time to stop.

Now, how do I know it's a female turtle? Because about half an hour after first spotting her her and watching her scoot all around our campsite and make several test digs...



I watched her lay about a dozen eggs and bury them right at this spot. I didn't have the phone by me when I caught her a-laying, but I watched the whole thing. Pele was coming back from the bathhouse and I gestured wildly to get her attention--she came over and saw the second half of the egg laying and the methodical burying process.

Yep, around the end of August, a whole passel of baby turtles will emerge (hopefully) from this spot.

Interesting. That's about the same time Pele's little egg is due to emerge. Heh.

We had a good time, despite wind on Saturday, rain on Sunday morning, cooking fussy-ness on my part and exhausted driving home on Sunday. That's just how we roll!

Grateful for: putting the van to good use.

The Visit

This week, one of my Israeli nieces came to visit. She's 20 and was traveling with a 21-year-old friend. They've been in New York for a couple of weeks and I was on their touring itinerary. They were supposed to stay two nights but only stayed one night and that was sufficiently exhausting. The tired me out in several ways. First, in advance of their visit, my niece asked me how to get to DC via Hershey Park. We'd actually been over this a month or so ago, before she got to the US. I've never been there and didn't know much beyond that it was in Pennsylvania. Some intrepid internet searching lead me to discover that if you want to go to Hershey Park and you don't have a car, you go to Harrisburg. We have family friends in Harrisburg.

So, on Friday, my day included: a phone call to our family friends making sure they could accommodate the two girls for an overnight stay. A visit to the Amtrak website to buy two train tickets from New York to Harrisburg. An internet search to determine the best way to get from Harrisburg to DC. (Answer: bus.) A visit to the Greyhound website to see if tickets needed to be purchased in advance (they didn't) and to find out the departure schedule. A call to Pele to arrange a tour of the Capitol on Tuesday (my rep never answered my email request for a tour even though I sent it in a month ago).

On Friday, I talked on the phone twice to the friends in Harrisburg and thrice to my niece. I talked to everybody again on Sunday. On Monday, the girls went to Hershey Park. On Tuesday afternoon, they arrived in DC. I picked them up at the Greyhound Station and drove them to my place. We only had a few minutes before we had to leave for our Capitol Tour. That was really fun (for me). I know they didn't "get" a lot of what we saw, but I'm sure they appreciated the pretty building. Also, the young man who gave us the tour was sweet as pie and he was a perfect gentleman.

When we got home, I tried to help my niece's friend buy a pair of shoes via the internet for her fiancé. Right, the friend is getting married two weeks after they return to Israel. Wow. So, eventually, I ended up putting the shoes on my credit card and she gave me cash. This was after half an hour on the phone with the sales rep, giving an Israel address (not for shipping, but for the charge), etc. Then her card was declined. Sigh. I should have just offered to buy them in the first place.

That night, since they'd already decided just to spend one night instead of two, I decided to take them to dinner at one of the Glatt Kosher restaurants in the Rockville/Wheaton area. We went to a Chinese place and it was very traditional-American style Chinese food. One waiter was Chinese. The other folks working there seemed to be Israeli—at least they spoke some Hebrew and they were also Orthodox. The girls thought it was "fancy," due to table cloths. They loved the very salty food. It was ok but not great. We only ordered two entrees and it was a HUGE amount of food. That was good, since they had plenty for lunch the next day.

One of the best parts of the visit was the chatting we did in the car. We talked about "dating." When we left the restaurant, my niece said, "How can you go to dinner on a date? You can't eat. You're too nervous." I laughed and she asked what was funny. I said, "People do it all the time! That's really what you do."

She said, "But how do you eat? You can't enjoy the food. And I don't want him to see me eat."

I said, "It depends on how much you like the person, but you're right, you don't focus on the food. But I don't care if he sees me eat. And he's going to have to see that anyway if you marry him."

See, because in their world a date is, almost literally, a marriage audition. In three to ten meetings they decide if they want to marry that person. I said, "But here, I could go on ten dates and still have no clue if I'd ever want to marry the guy." Now, it's not that I never think about such things. I've sometimes wondered whether I need to do a better screening job and only date guys who I know right up front I could possibly marry (or "marry"-- it's not about a wedding). I actually try to do this and it hasn't helped much. Oh well.

I told a couple of funny dating/boyfriend stories. They seemed appreciative rather than shocked. I wondered what their assumptions were about sex but I didn't ask. No judgment, please!

I also told my niece some stories about her father and his childhood. I wondered if it was appropriate. I mean, everyone knows these stories—at least in my generation. My brother told them to me, my other brother told me and I told him. I told my parents and they told me. This is the story we tell to each other about our family. I've also told countless friends and strangers. Yet, I realized, I'd never told the story to my nephew or any of my nieces. Why? Because they were too young or didn't speak much English? Because it's inappropriate to talk about their father's troubled past? No, I think it's more because I assumed they knew. After all, he told the story to me at least once. Would he not have told his children? I think he has but possibly a different version. I didn't get into it too much but it seemed pretty clear that she hadn't heard quite this version before. I hope no harm was done.

When we got home we went to sleep pretty quickly. I was exhausted from all the driving around and the walking around and the talking. In the morning, I got on the bus with them and sent them to view the White House. I went to work. They toured around on their own in the morning, hitting the Peacock Room at the Freer (on my recommendation) and the Natural History Museum. I met them at Air & Space. We saw a terrible 3D-Imax movie about the new Boeing 777. Damn thing was like an advertisement for the plane—which isn't flying yet and may never. And, what, we're going to buy one? Or select a particular flight because it's flying that plane—someday? Whatever. Too bad "To Fly" wasn't playing at a convenient time. Not that I love it but it's a good IMAX experience at least.

Then it was walk to metro to home. A little packing and I took them to the bus and they were off. They were sweet and grateful for all I'd done. They could tell I was tired. I do think they knew how much work and planning it took to help them. My niece even said, "It was so much easier to visit you! You drive us and get the tickets and we didn't have to plan anything." Damn straight. But, maybe, somehow, I could have done a little less? We will never know.

Oh, and the cat terror. That was crazy. The friend was totally terrified by the cat. So much so that after the first time she came in the house, she would wait outside until I put Tabitha (the cat) in the bathroom or the bedroom. Poor kitty had to spend the entire night in my room and wasn't too happy about it. She normally sleeps in my room, so that wasn't a problem. But being in there earlier was not to her liking and she also wanted out around 5am, her usual roaming time, so I didn't get much sleep after she woke up. Oh well. My niece wasn't crazy about the cat but wasn't so scared. I think she might have eventually worked up the nerve to pet her if it weren't for her friend.

What was going on here? Basically, the very religious folks (at least in Israel) don't keep house pets. But they do see cats—there are a lot of feral cats in Israel—that all hang around the dumpsters. Many people are a little scared of cats. But, still, this was extreme. The friend was very apologetic and I didn't make a fuss about it. I wasn't going to try and force her to get over her phobia, we both knew it was extreme, but there's no curing a phobia in 24 hours. Plus, she also clearly had an allergic reaction to the cat. Sigh.

This particular niece is a lot of fun. She's probably the most outgoing and curious one of the Israeli bunch. I like answering her questions and trying to explain my life. I like to try and understand hers too. I think I would have liked her to stay another night despite the exhaustion but it was good to see her for any amount of time. Next time I see her it will probably be at her wedding so it was good to have a chance to connect a bit before she goes on to the next phase of her life.

Grateful for: family.

Letting Go

Of all my problems…my multitude of problems…the hardest thing, the thing I cannot figure out how to do successfully is let go. I get over my anger quickly, but I can't figure out how to stop feeling angry when confronted by the same issues (example: my boss, Spesh, general bad behavior). I forgive and forget but I don't learn. Not that I've never learned anything but the hurts are so new and fresh each time you'd think that I'd know better by now. But I don't and either that makes me stupid or charming.

What I'm not letting go of these days is Kent. It's ridiculous that this is still a problem, that I even ever think of him in more than a fondly remembering way. But, there it is, I am shockingly not over him. Possibly closer, maybe further. And it's so absurd. When I think about what it is I have to do with my life, the things I want and need, they don't mesh with his life and the things he wants and needs. And even if the timing were different, even if he were more willing or loved me "enough," it still wouldn't make sense. It's almost impossible to conceive of a scenario where we have a long term future. It's not there. I know it. I know that he cared (still cares) about me and I know he's a good guy. That should be enough. I should smile wistfully and feel encouraged. If I could have a relationship that made me so very happy with a guy who I liked that much, it's a good sign. It's not all done and over and hopeless.

Yet, done, over and hopeless is exactly how I feel about relationships. I don't even know where to start these days. I have no taste for any of it. And when confronted with even the mildest flirtation, I find myself completely disengaged, quickly followed by sad. Why is this happening? I felt like I was done with Kent. I was happy to be his friend and happy to think that he felt the same. I was looking forward, moving on. Maybe this is just a temporary set back. I'm sure I'll be moving on again soon. I better be. Feeling this free-floating ex-boyfriend sadness is a colossal waste of time and emotional energy. I should really be saving my resources for something more worthwhile.

In sweater news—I signed up for a finishing workshop and took in my sweater pieces. It turned out the problem I was having—too much fabric where the sleeves met the shoulders—was an actual problem. Sure, they could be eased into the sweater, but then I would have a "puffy" sleeve. A puffy sleeve is not a good match for the sweater design. I had to re-knit the "sleeve-cap," which is maybe 1/5 of the total sleeve, so not a huge job. What was hard was figuring out the right shaping that would make the sleeve fit correctly. After two tries, I think I did it. I took all morning and a marathon of "24" season one to do it. I started to get achy and light headed after drinking only a little coffee and eating some disastrous brownies (more on that later) and a piece of toast all day. I left the house and I'm sitting at a bar, typing my heart out. I had a hard cider and snack. That plus the walk, a chat with the friendly bartender, made me feel a little better. I know I'm too isolated yet I don't want to go anywhere or talk to anyone. Hrm.

Anyway, when I get home, I'll try fitting the one corrected sleeve before I amend the other one. If I did it right, I'll be able to seam the whole thing up and have a REAL SWEATER. All indications are that it will actually fit. Now, I'll still have to put the snaps on (snaps not buttons for this sweater), so it's still not 100% finished, but getting it seamed has been such a hurdle that the tediousness of hand sewing the ribbon and snaps will be a bit anti-climactic as opposed to frustrating and befuddling. I mean, I'm not highly skilled at sewing, but it's conceptually familiar and won't be too hard to figure out.

I will post pics of that finished sweater, never fear.

Yes, I made disastrous brownies. New recipe. Baked them in the morning before the finishing workshop. Made them to bring to a cookout in the afternoon. Came home and realized after cutting into them that they were seriously undercooked. Baked them for an additional 30 minutes. They were cooked and not hard but I didn't have time to let them cool before I had to leave. When I tried to get the brownies out of the pan they turned into a crumbled ugly mess. Disaster. Brownies of pain. Not suitable for cookout gifting. Thus, I will be eating them for the next few days.

The cookout was a whole different story. I have a cousin (my mom's first cousin) who lives in this area. I hadn't heard from him in years, but he invited me over and I accepted. Not a single other plan was on the offing for this weekend. It was the smallest cook out ever, just me, my cousin, his daughter and wife and four other guests. Eight people total. Yet, two of them were single guys, which is a better ratio than any of the cookouts I went to a couple of weeks ago, though they were both about ten years younger than me.

And another example of how I demonstrate not being over Kent. Apropos of something I mentioned that I dated a guy from New Zealand and told a quick funny story about how when we first met, we understood each other well (accent-wise), but after a while, when we got more comfortable with each other, we slipped back to our regular colloquialisms and accents and would have a harder time understanding each other. My cousin then asked, "So, what happened to him?" I said that he had a plan to join the British Army and that he'd been successful in that plan. And that I had…another plan, so I was here.

Maybe I should get a better plan.

Grateful for: friendly bartenders.

Sunday Morning Post

Despite all evidence to the contrary, I haven't given up on blogging. I'm not sure why I don't write as much as I used to or why the blog doesn't have as central a place in my life. I clearly haven't needed it as much since France, but the writing was waning before then. Perhaps it's the knitting? Knitting is much more my (semi) creative outlet than blogging…or doing any kind of writing.

I had lunch with my friend the playwright the other day. He asked, are you doing any writing? He thinks I should get to work on that novel. Of course he's right. I said no and that it was hard what with the energy that I put into work these days and the knitting is kind of what I'm doing now. The knitting is so satisfying, so concrete and tangible. That's almost exactly the reason I went to demography in grad school rather than continuing in English. I needed something solid, non-subjective with an obvious structure. That's not writing. It is knitting. Maybe that makes sense.

I am so, so terrible at keeping myself to a schedule but I may try and do a minimum of one post a week on the weekend. Last time I promised to write every day it didn't really work out and this may not either, but, heck, can't hurt to try.

The last few days have been interesting. Last week, I was so bummed about work. This week, I met the office place with bemusement. I laughed away the ridiculousness, of which there was only a moderate amount. It helped that I worked at home at Monday and took an epic lunch-time excursion on Wednesday and then was out at a meeting all day Friday. Being away from the office certainly lends perspective. I have to ALWAYS take that telework day. It may way make the difference.

My Friday meeting was in Baltimore. Luckily, JenA was able to meet me afterwards. We walked around, had a beer and then ate a wonderful dinner. All Jen's treat because I managed to leave my wallet at home. Whoops. Thanks again, Jen.

Saturday, I really did nothing all day. Ok, not true. I did a minimal amount of much overdue cleaning, a lot of knitting and tv-watching, talked on the phone with Dad, talked to a visiting friend. Late in the afternoon, I got a call from friend and neighbor TR's alarm company. Their alarm was going off but I told the company not to call the police. Instead, I grabbed up the new netbook and other junk and walked over to TR's place and looked around. All was well. Then I went to the coffee shop and did about an hour's worth of work, while waiting to hear from my out of town visiting friend about our dinner plans.

I met her and other friends for dinner in U-Street. It was great to see her but I really wonder about those other friends who mostly talked to each other and, while sweet to the 4-year-old, didn't ask her mom about her life (the mom's life, that is). Luckily, I get to meet mom and daughter today, for some just the three of us time, which will be more to my liking.

I'm in yet another coffee shop, typing this up, getting ready to go to the zoo. I thought about doing some work, but decided that can wait until the afternoon. Today will be a good test of the baby computer's portability since I'll be carrying it around in my backpack. I think the backpack will be more comfortable than the messenger back, though I find it a little less convenient.

Grateful for: spending time with old friends.

Non-stop shopping

Today, I found myself shopping. This whole week or two has been a bit of a shopping spree. I suppose the desire to shop or make a monumental purchase started when I decided to sell my condo. That decision is now rescinded. After I decided not to sell (too much hassle and one good neighbor helped me stay), I thought about buying a car. An actual new car! Then that idea faded.

Finally, almost on a whim, last week I bought myself a $300 netbook and another knitting book. (I'm using the netbook right now. It's nifty and completely unnecessary.)

Today, I had some errands to run in the suburbs. I stopped at a strip mall with some small restaurants that I thought might be good eating. It was an interesting mix: Peruvian, Chinese, Indian and Persian. There was also a Persian mini-mart and a Persian bakery. I got some Persian nougat and cookies. (It sort of reminded me of Turkey, which I guess makes sense. I saw a brand of cookies in the mini mart that I remember buying in Turkey.)

I spotted a Michael's craft store. I stopped in and bought a scrapbook/ photo album and just-in-case craft stuff for the kids I read to (glitter glue sticks, mini pom-poms). I walked back to the car...but before I got out of there I saw a Best Buy. Just this morning, my relatively new coffee grinder failed yet again--it's rather temperamental. In a fit of pique, I threw it away. I bought a new coffee grinder (and gum and mosquito repellent) at Best Buy.

I was actually trying to go to Trader Joe's so I got in the van again and drove there. I entered through the back parking lot, something I've never done before, and I realized there was a huge computer (Microtec?) store there. I went to the computer store and bought a case for the netbook, a mouse, and memory stick. Then I did a mini-shop at TJ's.

Maybe this will serve as the retail therapy I so clearly need. Can I blame my horrible boss for this? She is driving me crazy and making me dread going to work. She is asking me to spend my time on tasks that NO ONE can understand the utility of. No one. Not my old boss, not my co-workers, not my friends down the hall, not my mother. What she wants me to do is so ridiculous that even a simple explanation of the task leaves the listener perplexed. The problem is that I don't say no. I mean, maybe that's the problem. Maybe saying no would be a solution. I just...I try to do what my boss asks me. I work hard and want to do a good job. I complain but I don't say no. That's why one of my work friends says I'm too nice. I'm not too nice but I might be too accommodating.

It was suggested to me that I clear this "saying no" strategy with my old boss. Not to ask his permission exactly, but to see what he thinks. How bad it is it to need approval?

I have to say, though, that this situation is bad enough that I'm worried about having a physical reaction. When I'm deeply unhappy, I get ill. It happened when I was in the third grade and my teacher tormented me. This situation feels oddly similar (though, to be fair, my new boss is not nearly as horrible as Mrs. Tarver).

The other day, after I completed the ridiculous task--my third try and it still wasn't completely to her satisfaction, though she did tell me to stop--she said, "So, do you see why I asked you to do that? Did you learn something?"

I did learn something--that the task wasn't very helpful. I said, "Well not really.  And, to be honest, it felt like a punishment."

She had an appropriately shocked look on her face and tried to explain why it was so important that I spent many hours creating a detailed budget justification/ staff loading chart for a project where the budget (on the government side) has been set for a very long time. SIGH.

I'm having a nice, relaxed, stress free weekend. Right? Right.

Grateful for: a very free weekend.

Not knitting sweaters

The current state of my sweater*:


*Actually, it's in a pile in a box where Tabitha (the cat) can't sit on it. Not seamed until I figure out why the sleeves don't match the body. Either pattern was off or I'm missing something. SIGH.

I did finish this project in the meantime. It's a pretty semi-circular shawl that I may never wear. It was fun to knit and my "take-along" project while working on the sweater.





Grateful for: time to think.

Knitting sweaters

A while ago, I wrote about wanting to knit myself a cardigan.

Well, I'm doing it. The cardigan is constructed in pieces: the back, two fronts, two sleeves and a collar (though the collar is "knit" on, it is added later). So far, I've completed knitting the fronts and the back. I've also seamed those pieces together at the shoulders. I'm about halfway done with the sleeves (I'm knitting them at the same time so halfway means that each sleeve is halfway done).

After finishing and blocking (meaning: washing and stretching to an even size) the sleeves, I'll knit the collar. The next step will be seaming the sleeves to the body and then sewing up the sleeves and the sides of the body. At that point, I'll have a cardigan without fasteners. The very last step will be attaching a ribbon and snaps. I still have a long way to go, but here are some pics of my progress:

The back, completed and blocked:



The fronts, side-by-side. The sweater is meant to be reversible, so in this pick you can see both sides.


A better view of the front so that you can see that the pattern on the back is mirrored on the front.

The "wrong" side of the back and fronts seamed together


And here's the "right" side of the pattern:


And, no, you didn't see any cat hair. The little white flecks are just a trick of the light.

Grateful for: lots of time to knit my sweater.

Exploits

Where to share? I was going to write about my day on Facebook, then I considered twitter. Finally, I decided on the blog! Here I can write and not seem like I'm bragging...much.

First,  a Jean Pierre update. He persisted in calling me. We even planned for him to call me on Wednesday night. I ended up at a happy hour on Wednesday and didn't get home until 10:30pm. He called me four time on my cell and left one petulant message, "Oh, Jamy, I guess you don't feel like talking to me. You don't answer. Maybe you will want to talk to me later." And then a message on my land line. Creepy. I'm done. Sorry, JP, it was fun while it didn't last.

Work has been just fine since I got back from Seattle. Then again, I was only in the office 2.5 days. That helps! I came in for half a day on Monday and I was in a training on Thursday and Friday. We'll see how next week goes. The boss is leaving me alone. I think her boss said something to her. I suspect she won't be leaving me alone forever.

Today, I feel extra virtuous. This morning, I got bread ready for baking. I folded laundry. Went for a jog to my favorite coffee place. Drank coffee. Shopped for food. Carried food home. Bought fancy cat food. Home now, ready to bake bread and relax (and knit) for the rest of the day. Maybe I'll do some house cleaning too...thought that seems doubtful. Works for me!

Grateful for: getting up early enough to get so much done.